Chapter 51: Opening the Great Peace!

The bronze cauldron trembled violently, and in that instant, Li Guanyi seemed to hear a dragon's cry and a tiger's roar in his ears; he raised his head and saw what looked like clouds of qi gathering in the sky, tearing and spiraling together, and in a daze he could see them transforming into colliding torrents—so vast, so overwhelming.

As if about to swallow Li Guanyi himself whole.

Though it was clearly daytime, Li Guanyi seemed to already see the light of the Bai Hu Seven Mansions.

The convergence of the civil and martial qi seemed about to engulf the Bai Hu Seven Mansions, and the inner qi within Li Guanyi's body unconsciously accelerated its circulation.

Xue Daoyong's voice pulled Li Guanyi awake from that magnificent vision.

"Guanyi, Shuangtao, what are you two standing there for? Come and greet Master Wang."

Li Guanyi stepped forward to pay his respects; the master smiled and nodded, saying: "Full of spirit and vigor, a fine young man."

Xue Daoyong laughed heartily and walked arm in arm with the master.

And Changsun Wuchou naturally fell in alongside Li Guanyi, introducing this guest to him.

This literary gathering at Yicheng truly lived up to its reputation as the grandest such event in the entire Chen Kingdom in thirty years; numerous famous scholars, noble families, and great Confucian masters of various schools had all come here, clustering around that Wang Tong, and around Wang Tong were three disciples, the eldest already past twenty.

One of them was from the Fang clan of Qinghe, named Fang Qiqiao, with a temperament as gentle and warm as jade, the most composed of them all.

Changsun Wuchou said with a smile:

"The Fang clan of Qinghe is one of the great clans under heaven; Fang Qiqiao is the legitimate son, and will be the head of the main family in the future."

"He is calm and shrewd, and has already gained some renown."

"The one of seventeen or eighteen is a scion of the Du clan of Jingzhao in the Ying Kingdom, named Du Keming."

Changsun Wuchou raised his hand and pointed at a young man with closed eyes over there.

Dressed all in black, with sharp, fierce brows, his whole bearing like a swift blade; Changsun Wuchou said softly: "Decisive, without the slightest hesitation, also an outstanding person. Among Master Wenzhongzi's disciples, Fang Qiqiao is the strategist, and Du Keming excels at decision. I once heard of the Strategist Rankings."

"Someone commented that these two youths, taken separately, are still very green—one is shrewd but lacks decisiveness, the other has decisiveness but insufficient stratagem; yet if you put them together, they might already be worthy of the rankings, perhaps a duo with the hope of breaking into the top ten of the Strategist Rankings in the future."

"They are fellow disciples who grew up together from childhood, and only they can join hands with such sincere hearts."

A young man led the way at the front and said composedly: "Honored guests, please take your seats."

Li Guanyi and Xue Shuangtao, by virtue of the old master of the Xue family, were able to sit in a fairly forward position; Changsun Wuchou, quite at ease, sat down beside Li Guanyi, pinched up two delicate pastries and stuffed them into his mouth, without the slightest constraint, drawing people to feel an unconscious sense of closeness.

The literary flourishing of the Chen Kingdom surpassed even that of the Central Plains Ying Kingdom, let alone the other regions; and these scholars and famous gentlemen had all brought their own sons and juniors. Li Guanyi swept his gaze across them and roughly guessed what was going on.

Sure enough, after tea and music, that Fang Qiqiao had already begun to speak:

"Today, our teacher, invited by an old friend, has come to this Yicheng to meet with all of you; this is already a grand literary gathering, and there is yet another matter. Our teacher is versed in the three teachings and the nine schools, divided into four branches: Strategy, Decision, and Remonstrance—each already has disciples. Now there remains one—【Momentum】—which has yet to find a disciple to inherit the mantle."

"Today, our teacher has come here to seek this one, his closed-door disciple."

The gazes of the many famous scholars all shifted.

Wang Tong's reputation was exceedingly high; he had many disciples, and scions of noble families from the Ying Kingdom and Chen Kingdom often came to study under him.

For them, this in itself represented a tremendous resource and opportunity, so these elders all rose, while the young men remained at their desks. Xue Daoyong patted Li Guanyi's shoulder and said: "Guanyi, this old man believes in you."

"Do not worry; give it your all!"

Li Guanyi saw the Juan Sect scroll that had been set down—it seemed he was to write an essay. His gaze swept over it, and the corner of his eye twitched—

One·【Vast and boundless, the people cannot name it; towering and grand, its achievements are great, radiant are its writings】

Two·【Water, fire, metal, wood, earth, grain—cultivate them all】

Three·【Compose a piece on the theme 'A scholar must first have breadth and vision,' using the character 'wen'】

Four·【On a moonlit night, wearing a brocade palace robe, boating to gather stones, compose a fu using 'gazing about in careless pride, as if no one were beside' as the rhyme scheme】.

Li Guanyi: "…………"

What is this?

What kind of thing is this?

It's over, I'm done for.

He recognized every single character on the page, but strung together, Li Guanyi had absolutely no idea what they meant. Meanwhile, all the noble scions, including Xue Shuangtao, had already begun answering—nothing more than dissecting the sages' words and applying them to the present situation.

And writing a fu using the character 'wen' as the rhyme.

Li Guanyi had to admit one thing: the systematic education that noble scions received for over ten years did not come for nothing—they were all writing furiously. The young man sighed, picked up his brush, and set it to the scroll, his strokes bold and vigorous, his handwriting excellent.

Li Guanyi!

He wrote down his own name.

Just like in the old days when answering a question, he had written out a character analysis.

In his heart there was a small comfort—at least it wasn't a completely blank paper.

Then he set the brush down.

He sat there, his back ramrod straight, while everyone else was writing furiously; only he sat there alone, which drew the gazes of Fang Qiqiao, Du Keming, and the young man who had led the way—not for any other reason, but simply because he was far too conspicuous.

Du Keming raised an eyebrow and pointed at the scroll.

Answer the question—what are you looking at me for?

Fang Qiqiao, dressed all in white, walked over to the young man, lowered his head, and said gently: "This young brother Li, is there some difficulty? Why don't you take up your brush?"

The young man answered directly: "I can't answer it."

The gentle gentleman was taken aback, then smiled helplessly.

After thinking for a moment, when he came back over, he actually brought the young man some pastries and said: "Then just sit well, and watch them answer." Fang Qiqiao's voice was warm; looking at the three characters Li Guanyi had written, he praised: "Your handwriting is very good."

With a smile in his voice, he said: "If the tea runs short, just tap the table lightly."

"Consider it a rare experience in itself."

Li Guanyi indeed began to slowly sip his tea, pondering the strange change in the bronze cauldron.

He thought of what that Yin-Yang Master 【Master Siming】 had said.

The gathering of the winds and clouds of the world?

This instead drew sidelong glances from others, especially those noble scions who had earlier hoped to strike up a conversation with that young lady but had been interrupted by him—there was a hint of relief on their faces—so they had thought he was some man versed in both civil and martial arts, but it turned out he was just a crude, unrefined warrior.

In their hearts, they were reassured!

This Juan Sect scroll took a full shichen to write. In the end, Li Guanyi finished his tea but couldn't leave, so he sat there quietly, eyes closed, regulating his breath. Outside, the various renowned scholars and literati chatted idly about romance and the arts. It was Fang Ziqiao and Du Keming who rolled up the scrolls, stacking them into a thick pile and bringing them over.

All the renowned scholars were gathered here.

Wang Tong went to look through them. Xue Daoyong burst out laughing: "Hahaha, let's look at my family's child first, hahaha. Everyone, no objections, right?" The crowd naturally didn't dare object, only laughing along. Wang Tong unrolled a scroll and praised:

"Miss Xue Shuangtao, her words are practiced and fluent, her prose bold and heroic in spirit."

"Yet the fu she writes is graceful and subtle, like the mist over Jiangnan's waters. Among the women of today, few at her age surpass her in talent."

The other scholars had a glint of eagerness in their eyes, wanting to speak privately with Xue Daoyong.

Xue Daoyong waved a hand, saying heartily:

"My granddaughter is naturally excellent. Now let's look at my family's Fire Qilin son."

Wang Tong laughed and nodded, searching through the scrolls.

Fang Ziqiao reached out and pressed down on the Juan Sect scroll, saying mildly: "... Xue Lao, perhaps look at it later."

"The wine has already been warmed, and there's still the second round of questions."

Xue Daoyong burst out laughing again: "Hahaha, silly child, what's there that can't be seen?!"

"Come, come, come, let us all admire it together!"

The old man, like one boasting of his own nephews, drew out the scroll and unrolled it. Everyone was curious—what manner of great talent could make the lion of these chaotic times, the descendant of Duke Xue, Xue Daoyong, Value So Highly. They all looked over, only to see the Juan Sect scroll white as snow, with a single line of a name on it. The calligraphy itself was striking, with an extraordinary foundation.

For a moment, dead silence. Changsun Wuchou, who had grabbed a handful of Western Region melon seeds, froze.

"Huh???"

"Huh??!!"

How could someone capable of writing that level of strategy be unable to even answer this?

Out of consideration for the various noble houses' face, such a question was already very simple.

After a long silence, someone finally stammered: "Um, the, the calligraphy, it's, it's free and Mu Zi Yi!"

Fang Ziqiao said mildly: "That young brother has a dignified bearing; he must have great talent. Young and arrogant, full of vigor—presumably he simply looked down on this question." The crowd hurriedly agreed, praising him repeatedly. Only Xue Lao's mouth twitched, his heart caught between laughter and tears at this brat. He tossed aside the blank scroll, feigning anger, and said:

"Where is Guanyi?"

"Come out here this instant!"

The quiet youth named Wei Xuancheng pointed toward a distant pavilion and said calmly:

"Just as it ended, he was pulled away by an absolutely beautiful young lady."

Xue Lao's face went pale. He strode off in pursuit, and the others followed behind with smiles.

Du Keming said: "You really know how to hit the key point, Wei Xuancheng."

Wei Xuancheng said unhurriedly: "Cutting to the heart of the matter. I also want to see whether that person truly has talent, or just came here to freeload food and drink."

The youth rubbed his own wrist.

In one shichen, he had brewed a full seven pots of tea.

The copper pot was very heavy.

His wrist hurt terribly.

The three smiled and followed along. This was their first meeting with that youth.

Young and full of vigor, in the prime of life, naturally arrogant and unrestrained.

Their impressions of each other could not yet be called good.

As the crowd moved forward, they slowed their steps. The scholar Wang Tong gave a light cough, and a wave of qi spread out, masking their movements. Martial artists are fierce and brave, but scholars naturally have their own countermeasures. Martial artists are invincible in close combat—but that requires actually getting close.

The crowd saw, amid the flowers screening the pavilion, a youth in a blue robe sitting cross-legged. That black blade was too heavy, so he had taken it off and held it in his arms. The finely dressed young lady raised her brow, pacing back and forth, suspicious: "Guanyi, why didn't you answer?"

Li Guanyi sighed and said honestly: "I don't know how, and I can't even understand it."

Xue Shuangtao's eyes fixed on the youth before her and said:

"You didn't sound like someone who hadn't studied when you were telling historical stories."

She had overheard those noble sons snickering softly just now, so she refuted them.

Then, annoyed, she pulled Li Guanyi aside to question him. The youth took it in stride, holding his blade and smiling as he said:

"I really just don't know."

Not far away, Xue Lao could only resign himself to believing Li Guanyi was unversed in literary arts. Changsun Wuchou was curious; the others found it secretly amusing—it was rare to see this Xue Lao stumped—and felt relieved, for given the old man's status, if he wanted that reputation, it wouldn't be hard to obtain.

Wang Tong smiled mildly: "Xue Lao, the children's idle chatter—it's not proper for us to eavesdrop."

Xue Daoyong said frankly: "Yes, this boy is unruly. Not answering was indeed rude."

"This old man apologizes here."

Wang Tong laughed: "Not at all."

"I have some fine tea obtained from beyond the pass; please, Xue Lao, share it with me."

Yet Xue Shuangtao still didn't believe it. She said softly: "'Vast and grand, the people cannot name it. Lofty and towering, it has its achievements. Radiant and bright, it has its culture.' This is from the Book of Documents, praising the great deeds of the ancient sage-kings. This question asks one to extol the sacred achievements of the present Emperor."

The present Emperor?

Li Guanyi did not answer.

He could not bring himself to praise him. Qian Zheng's hundred and thirty-five wen were still wrapped up neatly.

If he ever saw that Emperor, he wanted to smash those hundred and thirty-five wen right into his face.

Gripping his blade, he said: "Do the great deeds of the ancient sage-kings still exist?"

"They're gone."

"Yes."

"The ten thousand halls of the palace have all turned to dust."

The youth answered: "Prosperity, decline—it's all the same either way. In the end, it's just that one line."

"When the dynasty rises, the common people suffer; when it falls, the common people suffer."

Wang Tong, who had turned to leave, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Xue Shuangtao said, "This is…"

Most others said that when a nation perishes, the people suffer, but the weight of those four characters before it was even greater.

Li Guanyi laughed and said, "It was when I came…"

Xue Shuangtao picked up the thread and said, "An old man passing by was reciting it, wasn't he?"

Li Guanyi clapped his hands in approval and said:

"The eldest young lady is so clever—she's already learned to answer ahead of time."

"That old gentleman was surnamed Zhang."

Xue Shuangtao didn't believe any of it. She looked at Li Guanyi and said, "Look at that other question—Mr. Wang Tong said that for a scholar to reach far, one must first have breadth of mind and vision, and only then literary grace; this is the so-called 'scholar first knows the vessel.' It's asking about your ambition and your capacity, and any student could offer a few words in reply."

Li Guanyi flicked his blade with a finger and said with a smile, "I am a man of martial arts."

"No good with words."

Xue Shuangtao lightly kicked the youth in the shin.

Then she saw her own grandfather over there, saw Xue Daoyong deliberately reveal his face and frantically signal with his eyes; Li Guanyi, with his back to the old man, hadn't noticed because of the literary aura Wang Tong the teacher was concealing and Xue Daoyong's deliberate restraint of himself. Xue Shuangtao thought for a moment, then stretched out her hand.

On her fair palm sat a golden jade ring, and she said with a smile, "Well then, Mr. Guest Retainer."

"A bracelet of gold inlaid with jade—I'll buy your ambition from you. Tell me."

"Is this a fair trade?"

The youth laughed and said, "Alright."

"When I was coming here, I happened to meet two gentlemen, and those two gentlemen each happened to say a line."

"I wonder, eldest young lady—would you like to hear the literary one, or the martial one?"

Xue Shuangtao said, "And if it's the martial one?"

Li Guanyi thought for a moment and said, "A true man born between Heaven and Earth."

"Should raise a three-foot sword and settle the four seas, establish merit for all ages!"

His teasing tone kept him from saying that other line—how could one brood in lowliness under another for long.

But just raising a three-foot sword and establishing merit for all ages was already utterly upright and grand.

A glint of light flashed in Changsun Wuchou's eyes.

Xue Shuangtao nodded blankly, then said curiously, "And if it's the literary one?"

"The literary one?"

Li Guanyi gripped his blade. All that he had seen and heard during this stretch of time, those ten years of wandering—he said leisurely, "To set the heart for Heaven and Earth, to set the destiny for the living people."

Just that one sentence already carried a boundless, expansive grandeur.

Fangzi Qiao's smile faintly stilled.

"To continue the lost teachings for the sages of the past."

Du Keming raised an eyebrow.

The youth had been about to open his mouth and naturally speak that final line, treating it as nothing more than teasing a friend.

But he suddenly stopped. He didn't know why—something was lodged in his chest. Qian Zheng's letter after letter home, that old farmer who sold his daughter, this damned world flashed before his eyes, then churned in his breast like flame.

At this moment, that final line did not come out as a simple, casual recitation.

The reason was laughable.

Because Li Guanyi had truly understood that final line.

And the three lines before it were nothing more than reciting from the book.

When you study, you simply cannot grasp the power of words. Only after enduring long years, seeing countless things, at some moment does education complete its loop—and the texts you recited as a youth will strike the brow with the precision of a blade.

Li Guanyi raised the black blade, pointing at the sky and earth ahead.

In that instant, he understood the weight of those words, so the final line surged forth from his heart like flame. He spoke softly, as if for the first time raising his own voice to the world—

"To open a great peace for all ages."

And so those renowned scholars had no more words.